Treacherous Hearts: Loki's Eternal Love
by Avalon Medieval
Summary: After being forced into a loveless marriage, an anguished medieval princess seeks comfort in the arms of a dark god. Gritty romance and lots of smutty sex.
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, after all of the requests from some of my beloved followers asking me to write Loki sweet, I have finally decided to give it a try! I could only do this with pre-Avenger, pre-Thor, Loki. I also had to make someone the bad guy so that happened to fall to Thor. I am not going totally OOC with Thor, just back enough in his youth when he was impulsive and all about himself.**

My inspiration for this story was drawn from Snow White And Charming's Theme Song (Once Upon a Time)

**The Early Age of Europe**

Dark clouds, heavy with unfallen rain, blanketed the dawn sky. A roaring wind from the north lashed out at the world below, whipping up the scent of gushing guts and fresh blood.

"I beseech thee, show mercy for the love of God!" An elderly peasant pleaded upon her knees, hands up as a shield, her weathered flesh furrowed from too many seasons of wind and sun.

"Not for the God you worship, bitch!" The burly Asgardian knight taunted, bringing his sword down upon the helpless creature.

In every direction women and children fled, sobbing hysterical as they raced seeking safety among warriors locked in mortal combat.

"Fall back!" The general of the Midgards ordered, his voice betraying the truth. They did not stand a chance against the powerful Asgardian knights and weaponry.

A young mother, ferrying a swaddled infant to her chest, sprinted toward the open arms of her husband. Just as she reached him, she froze, mouth gaping, her life caught in the flicker between life and death. Her husband lowered his gaze to her chest. In her heart protruded an arrow, pooled in scarlet. Steam rising as the warm blood greeted the chilly air. He managed to collect the baby from her arms as she crumbled. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he was forced to leave her behind. He ran. The baby in his embrace wailing for a mother he would never see again.

Odin stood before them, his feet mired in a river of mortal blood, bearing a rage gleaming glare. The realm in front of him suffering in needless agony. Dead bodies littered the frozen earth, flames ravished dwellings. Warcries, the laments of wounded horses, and the terrified wails of children carried on the wind, piercing and forlorn.

Loki stood behind him, peeking around his father's broad shoulders at the massacre in live action. He watched as two little girls scurried hand in hand from the slaughter heading toward the forest. An arrow out of no where impaled the youngest one in the rib cage. She stumbled a few steps before falling, taking the other child down with her. The dark god placed his hand to his heart as the older one drew to her knees, whimpering, tugging on her sister's arm trying to help her stand. He lowered his eyes, anger twitching his sculpted jaw bone; that poor child would never walk again. She was dead, her life stolen from her before she ever even had the chance to live.

Loki followed Odin as he made his way through the war-torn kingdom seeking Thor. He finally spotted him, draped in blood, a perverse grin etched upon his youthful lips as he impaled a Midgardian knight half his size. The boy sank to his death muttering for his mother as he drew his last breath.

"Cease this senseless bloodshed this instant!" Odin roared, his voice ascending supremacy over all beings. The war, the cries, even the wind died.

Thor glanced up at his father's atrocious expression. Even from the distance he could see the furious pounding of Odin's heart by the aroused vein throbbing on his forehead. Waves of breath fog rose from his nostrils signifying he was breathing like a rampant mad minotaur. Thor dropped his hammer. He was in trouble now and there would be hell to pay.


	2. Chapter 2

Sulking, Thor stood beside his father before the aging Midgardian king. The clouds could contain the frosty rain no longer. It fell faintly, misting their flesh, but no one seemed to notice.

Humiliation warmed Thor's veins, leaving him raw with contempt. His father had yet chastised him. He was waiting for their return home where prying eyes could not witness the much deserved tongue lashing. Odin would storm and insult him with names like impulsive, arrogant, and reckless.

He glanced to his brother, who smirked as if he felt Thor's eyes upon him. Damn Loki, it had to be him who alerted the allfather of his attack on Midgard. How like Loki to conjure mischief. It wasn't that Loki care for the Midgardian race. He did this to cause Odin to question his decree of crowning Thor in the future. Loki's scheme worked. He knew his father well and the king was mentally doubting his judgement right now. Thor had not intended for the assault to grow out of hand. He had only meant to grant his platoon practice in warfare and before he knew it, he and his warriors grew mad with bloodthirst, venting their pent up vigor upon all who fell in their path.

"My son, my heir, is dead. Slain by your son. I have no other sons and I am an old man now. Not only have you destroyed my kingdom, you have desolated my lineage."

Odin's gaze fell upon a young maiden cowering beside the queen. "You have a daughter."

The elderly king lunged to his feet. "A worthless wench! Females are meant to bear sons, not rule!"

Odin nodded in agreement. He felt the old man's pain. Thor was to carry on his legacy. He could not even begin to imagine the horror of losing his only natural born son. "I am shamed by the actions of my son. He has wronged you gravely. I wish to make amends for his faults. The offspring of your daughter will be your bloodline. It is so with any kingdom, but I will gift you something other mortal kingdoms do not bear. A half god for an heir. A king of great strength and power. A king that will live for centuries. A king that will carry out your legacy in your name."

At that the old king cocked his head, intent to hear more.

"If you permit, my son shall join with your daughter and in return she shall sire you an heir like no other."

Thor could feel the king's eyes scrolling over his grizzled body mentally picturing the robust son of his loins. "Father, I must contest!" Thor bellowed. Midgards were a primitive, disgusting lot. The last thing he wanted was to be tied to one. Asgards would ridicule him, laugh behind his back.

"You will do as I say and this maiden" he pointed toward the wide-eyed girl, "is to be your bride from this day forth!"

The queen yelped as if in pain. "Husband, please!" Her voice frantically beseeching.

"Silence woman! It is an honor to become the wife of a god."

"Please, Desdemona is still a child!"

"Well then blame yourself for if you would have bestowed me the sons you promised as a young bride than Desdemona would not have to bear this burden!"

Desdemona stepped forward, collecting her mother's hand into her trembling one. "It is fine, mamma." Her meek voice faint.

She peered up at Thor through rain beaded lashes, the droplets sparkling like drops of dew. Veils of long hair haloed her flawless face, her eyes cat-shaped and Irish green. Thor sneered in disgust and lowered his eyes dismissing her as if she were a mere peasant.

Loki caught the tears glistening in her pretty eyes before she lowered her lids. Like Thor, she had no choice in the matter. Loki saw this and he hoped his brother did too. He should not care what happened to this futile mortal, but the pain in her reflection had momentarily softened him.


	3. Chapter 3

The agreement was that the couple be married before the mortal king and afterwards live in Asgard until Desdemona birth a son. Then she and the child could return to Midgard where the king's advisers would rear the half-god to rule.

The joining ceremony had been lifeless and brief. After the union was blessed by the mortal priest, the Asgards marched back to the bifrost through a parade of weeping peasants. They mourned their princess as if today were a funeral instead of a wedding.

Thor was immediately ushered into Odin's private chambers and for the next hour, the castle walls shook with his roar. Words like "rash, reckless, impulsive," echoed and convinced-heads in passing nodded in agreement. Thor was far from being ready to rule as king.

The blushing bride now sat at Thor's side as he chugged mugs of ale. After each he belched, smashed the mug to the floor and shouted "Another!" One servant would rush to clean his mess as another served him a new brew.

Loki stared at the little beauty to his brother's side. She sat shoulders straight, lids lowered staring at her untouched feast. She was so tiny and delicate compared to his grizzled brother. She had not spoken since she whispered her vows and no one seemed to care. She was nothing but a fleeting shadow. Loki understood this feeling more than anyone else in Asgard.

As if she could feel his eyes upon her, she glanced up, caught him watching her, and quickly glanced back down with flaming cheeks. It had happened fast, but long enough for Loki to spot the innocence shimmering in her eyes. She was untouched by experience; pure and beautifully naive.

Thor burped again drawing Loki's attention. The warriors around him cheered as if he had just won a jousting match. Loki winced. He hoped for Desdemona's sake that his brother could read her as clearly. If mishandled, she would easily break, body and soul.

The Asgardian maidens glowered venomously at Desdemona, obviously jealous that a mortal had snared the god of their dreams. The men sneered with mockery, glinting from lewd jokes told in quiet. Even Frigga, who disappointed Loki, had remained aloof from Thor's bride. She was the one person Loki had thought would take to the blameless mortal. It was not like his mother to neglect someone in need of friendship.

Desdemona was alone and abashed. Brides should be bubbling with joy and the people around them flaunting over their beauty. "Brother, your bride is truly exquisite." Loki said. Every bride deserved to hear this on her wedding day, especially when it was true.

Desdemona lifted her gaze, inhaling a faint startled breath.

Thor glanced up with a smirk. "It seems you have drunk a bit too much wine, Loki!" Thor's jesting voice broken into a patronizing chuckle. His followers joined in reminding Loki of their childhood when Thor used to tease him and everyone laughed. Now it was poor Desdemona who bore the brunt of the bully.

Wounded, Desdemona lowered her gaze, but not before capturing the honesty radiating in her brother in law's eyes. He had been serious with his compliment.

As the hours waned, Desdemona had long excused herself. Thor had waved her off nonchalantly continuing to binge drink with his warriors.

"Dont you think you have indulged enough, brother?"

Thor peered up from an amusing joke of bellowing laughter and smirked. "Not nearly enough to make me forget that I am chained to a worthless mortal!"

"But not for long. How long do mortals live these days? 40 or so years?" Frandral added with sarcastic humor.

The warriors burst into crude laughter, all but Loki.

An hour later, Odin tore Thor from the clutches of a scantily dressed Asgardian dancer. "Consummate your marriage, boy!"

Loki followed Thor into the hallway, watching him sway, knocking over vases as he stumbled toward his chambers. He rushed to his side saving him from a full-blown fall. "I hope you take better care with your wife tonight. She is after all a little thing."

Thor grumbled something guttural and slammed the door in his brother's face.

Loki paused outside the newly wed's door, placing a palm to his head birthed from the echo of Thor's slurry degrading words. "Come here my little seed-hungry mortal, I have something for you."


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE: I have changed to modern dialog for the sex scenes.**

**ALSO please remember this is my adaptation; a fictional creation from the fantasy world in my head and does not follow the comics, movies, or Norse Mythology. I appreciate any suggestions, but like with all my previous fics, I feel I must write what comes natural to me. Writing fiction is my escape from the real world and the rules of society. **

**WARNING: The following is explicit dominating sex and borders vulgarity. That should not surprise my regular followers as I am known for dark smut. I always like to issue warnings as my smut is distasteful/offensive to many, so they can jump ship before it gets too deep. **

Desdemona was not asleep when Thor bumbled in. She had been reliving the horror of the day that had changed her life forever. It had all started with the toll of bells followed by the cries of war that would be forever etched in her mind. She had watched impotently from her window as her childhood friends were massacred, her brother slain, slaughtered by the very man that she is to take between her legs this night.

She sat in the middle of the bed, knees to her chest, tears freshly bloomed upon her cheeks. She peered up at the inhuman-sized god. He was sloppily drunk and striping nude. She focused on his engorged shaft, erect and enormous, bulging and dripping.

He had called her seed-hungry as if this had been her ploy, as if she actually wanted to have sex with the brut. Glare spitting venomously, Desdemona tugged her gown over her head and fell to her back uncoiling her legs. This was her fate. This was the price she must pay for her brother's death. Her kingdom needed a king and it was her duty to give them one even if the mere sight of his monster sickened her.

She closed her eyes feeling Thor's stern grip on her hips as he drug her rear to the edge of the bed. Still standing, he pried her virginal folds apart and forced the head of his shaft inside. She bit her lip, curled her toes, and squinted her face with the anticipation for the pain she knew would hail all too soon.

With one conquering thrust and a husky moan, Thor had meant to impale his full length into her core. Half way there, she yelped and shot away from the assault.

What the hell was wrong with her? No woman had ever fled from his love. Was she trying to play a game? He wasnt sure. He could not think straight. Damn Asgardian ale! "Come back here!" Thor bellowed, lunging on to the bed and seizing her hips again. His hands so big, he could wrap his fingers around her entire waist. He flung her backwards, looming above her petite form. His head span, vision blurry. A sharp pain flayed his groin. The time for bashful games were over. He needed to fuck.

She had not meant to flee, but the overwhelming pain had captured her senses. Her body reacted the only way it knew how. "That hurt!" She spat, anger seeping from her eyes.

Using his knee, Thor jacked her legs wide and straddled her. "It is going to hurt the first go around. You will get used to it."

He fell upon her mouth, kissing, sucking, thrusting his tongue so deep she felt the bile rise in her throat. She closed her eyes and turned her head from the stench of his alcohol coated breath, the odor making her stomach churn.

"Do not play games. Do not play like you do not want me." Thor muttered, cocksure of himself. Every woman wanted him. He was a Thor; a god, the protector of the nine realms, the future king of Asgard. He sank to her neck, mauling and sucking a trail to her breast.

He thrust his finger into her core, grinning conceitedly. "You see, you are wet for me."

Desdemona hissed, trying to breathe through her mouth and not her nose. "That is blood you feel!" But Thor was too intoxicated, too pompous to concentrate on anything except the desire brewing in his loins.

Cupping a dainty breast in his strong hand and squeezing, he positioned himself back into place and threatened. "You wanted my seed now you are going to take it."

Desdemona bit her lip, closing her eyes, feeling the resentment of their forced marriage in his touch. He groped her breasts, twisting at her nipples. She would bear the marks of his drunken passion for days to come.

Desdemona threw her head back, lamenting as the burly warrior submerged as deep as he could penetrate into her womb.

"You are hurting me!" She bucked, body writhing against the brutal entry. There was not a shred of tenderness in his touch. She had not expected any. He was a barbarian who slaughtered people weaker than him. He was incapable of mutual ecstasy.

"You should have thought of that before you forced yourself upon me! Now you will take every inch of me!" Thor growled lustful, capturing her wrists and pinning them above her head to immobilize her. He reared his hips back, withdrawing to her rim only to ram back in, over and over again, relentless, mercilessly, not allowing her traumatized tunnel time to adjust.

She whimpered as he manhandled her breasts, twisting and groping with barbarous vigor.

"You like it, don't you? Say you like it!" Thor groaned in between sips of her breast and throat. She was delicate and small beneath him, her intimate muscles tight and fighting his mass, fueling his lecherous rage on.

She ceased struggling. There was no use. He was stronger than her and he made damn sure she knew it. He was too drunk to care. All she could do was lay beneath his conquering power and suffer his virile lust. With each impact, her body rose and fell. Sweat from his body washed over hers, mixing and dripping with the blood seeping down her thighs. It felt as if her insides were being mutilated. She gasped, suffocating from a mixture of muscles, musk, and heat.

"Yes, Dessy, oh yes!" Thor grunted and snarled with feral passion.

It seemed like hours she was a slave to his savage lust and vulgar sentiments. Finally he buried himself as deep as he could penetrate her wounded womb, extravasating an explosive fountain of ecstasy. Panting, growling, sweating, he filled her full and dropped clumsily to her side.

The vanquished mortal wrapped her arms around her excruciating abdomen and curled into a fetal position, smothering her sobs into a pillow.

"Dessy."

She kept her head lowered, refusing to acknowledge him. And "Dessy"...who the hell was he to give her a nickname?

Thor glanced down at his flagging cock smeared crimson. "My brother was right. You are a little thing."

Humiliation washed over her, scorching her veins. He had discussed her sexually with his brother. Loki had thought of her in that manner, spoke of her in such an intimate way. She felt demoralized, degraded. She wanted to run until she was out of breath, until she collapsed and just wither away.

Thinking his new wife was playing the coy bride, he reached for her. "Come here, I am not finished with you."

Desdemona cringed at the touch of his insistent fingers. Surely to God he could not repeat what just occurred. How could one man possess that much stamina? But then again, he was a god...

Desdemona never fathomed her wedding night would turn out this way. She spent the entire night being tossed, bent, folded, and ridden until finally her body shut down. The last thing she remembered was Thor pumping himself into her telling her how much she wanted him.

She woke to the purposely loud sound of a maid banging Thor's ale mugs into a can.

"Hello." Desdemona murmured, rubbing the slumber from her swollen eyes. Thor was no where in sight. Thank goodness!

The maid stopped what she was doing and glared hostile at the bedraggled mortal in Thor's bed. Sex literal oozed off her, generating mental images of the pleasure she must have endured beneath him the night before. The sight disgusted her. A Midgard did not deserve such a prize.

As the maid turned to leave, Desdemona asked. "What is your name?"

"Genevieve." The young sultry woman snapped.

"Well Genevieve, at least pour your princess a cup of breakfast tea." Desdemona ordered with a little bit of sass in her tone. She was sick of Asgards reproaching her.

Genevieve gritted her teeth as she served Desdemona. It took every ounce of self discipline within her not to dash the searing brew in the little mortal's face.

**NOTE - I struggled writing this chapter….I tried to portray Thor during his youthful years when he was rash and insensitive to others. I wanted him intoxicated and careless with Desdemona, not brutal. BUT I wanted it to seem brutal in Desdemona's eyes because of her weaker form and also because she resents him for slaying her people. I did not want to write him a rapist, just someone who is sexually impulsive, drunk, and arrogant. I had trouble expressing this.**


	5. Chapter 5

Loki was sitting in front of a bowl of fruit when Thor shuffled across the dining hall floor squinting his eyes against an onslaught of sunbeams bearing in from the window. The muscular god slumped down and demanded a cup of tea in a voice that reeked of a raging headache. He reminded Loki of a youthful boy, hungover and sulking because he lacked self-control the night before.

"Where is your bride?"

Thor rubbed his puffy eyes and yawned before answering in a smug tone. "Too weak to walk."

Loki might have shared in his brother's perverse joke had it not been about a virgin, especially a frail mortal one. Before Loki could stress his unamusement, Frigga entered, and not wanting his mother to hear about Thor's intimate honeymoon, he tossed the napkin from his lap into his half-eaten plate and left without further words. Thor's endless arrogance had churned his stomach sour.

More than once that day, Loki's thoughts drifted to the welfare of the little honey and milk Midgard. He had been physically attracted to her from the moment he set eyes on her, but these thoughts that plagued him now had nothing to do with lust. He was concerned about her spirit. Her soul must be in turmoil having been ripped from all that she knew and thrust into a distant world, married to the man who had almost annihilated her people. She was alone in Asgard, exiled from society, not wanted or loved.

He remembered vividly the silent tears that streamed down her cheeks as she whispered her vows. He remembered because unlike Thor, her weeping had lanced his heart. He pitied her. Such an innocent girl did not deserve this.

Later that day, Loki spotted Desdemona sitting in the garden, a shawl draped around her shoulders. She was staring into the pond as though in a trance. She looked so demure and pitiful like a little lost child desperate for a hug.

Damn it, he knew better, but unwisely he ignored his instincts and headed in her direction.

Loki made as much noise as he could trotting toward her. She was so far lost in her despair, she did not hear him.

"May I join you?" He asked, standing only inches from her, his large shadow blanketing her petite silhouette.

Her body flinched. Startled, she peered up at him, her face vacant, eyes hollow. The first thing he noticed was her lust-swollen lips. Fatigue encircled her lower lids. His eyes softened following the trail of passion marks down her throat into the hidden veil of the shawl. His brother was an animal when he drank. He should have stopped him..

"You may." She muttered in voice so soft he struggled to make out her words.

He smiled at her before sitting down, keeping proper distance between them. "Do you like Asgard?"

"It is lovely here." She replied in a haunting tone that shot a load of sadness straight into his heart. Thor had broken her. There was nothing left but a hollow shell.

Using the bench rail for support, she whimpered painfully as she drew to her feet. Carefully, she crept away using a wide-legged stride. Loki's guts curdled. He clenched his fingers into a tight fist to calm his anger. Thor should have known better. Mortals were delicate, weak creatures. It was evident that he drunk-fucked her all night like a raging bull, bruising her dainty insides, wounding her vulnerable soul. Thor was used to fucking tavern whores and he had fucked his little virginal bride in the same manner. Common sense should have told him that she was too demure to handle such vigor on her first night as his bride.

At dinner Desdemona sat beside Thor meekly, not eating. No one spoke to her. It was as if she were invisible, but burdens were not invisible. They were there, always in the way of something or someone.

She stared at her plate, her sultry lips in a pout. A vaporless gloom hung over her head, dimming the fire that once raged in her gaze. Loki smiled mischievously. It was time he gave the sad little mortal something to brighten those pretty eyes. He focused on her lips curled south in a frown, wondering how much prettier she would be when she smiled. He was about to find out….

Notes:

**The next chapter will have a very cute surprise!**


	6. Chapter 6

After making his daily rounds, Loki stopped off on a quick detour on his way back to the castle.

He knew where to find her. He now stood behind an ivory statue admiring Desdemona without notice. She sat in the same spot as yesterday, glaring into the pond without really seeing it.

"Desdemona." He called out her name announcing his arrival.

She knew that voice. It was her brother-in-law, the God of Trickery. Although Loki had been the only person to tried to converse with her, she still did not trust him. After her own father basically sold her life away to a murderer who did not want her, she trusted no one.

She peered up, emotionless, spotting her brother-in-law treading in her direction. He was dressed in his signature color; black, probably as black as his heart. His curls were unbound and wind rippled. Today he wore not his sword, instead he ferried a burlap bag. He smiled down at her. She neglected to return the gesture. She had nothing to smile about.

She scooted to the left of the bench to allow him room to sit beside her. Instead he squatted to the ground in front of her and gently laid the bag on the soft grass.

"For you; a wedding gift."

Narrowing her eyes at the small bundle, she asked in a suspicious tone. "What is it?"

Loki glanced at the bag. He patted it causing something inside to shake. He winked and replied. "You have to open it to see."

Desdemona did not budge. She was not about to play his cruel game only to have people laugh behind her back as they did the night before.

Suddenly the bag spilled over and a tiny, furry creature bounced out.

"A puppy!" She yelped, sinking to her knees to scoop him up. "You are giving me a puppy?" She beamed like a delightful child hugging the happy puppy to her chest.

Loki switched to the bench and chuckled. "What are you going to name him?"

At that she bit her lip and wrinkled her forehead in wonder. She held the puppy to her face, her mind whirling with ideas. Impatient, the puppy scoffed causing her to flow with puerile laughter.

Her smile, her luminous eyes, the melody of her sweet laughter induced his heart to roil. In all his years, he had never seen anything more divine. Loki laced his fingers to soothe the ache to reach out and touch her. She would feel soft. Her flesh, her hair, everything about her appealed soft and he yearned to caress her just as she was petting the pup.

"Pumpkin! His name is pumpkin." She kissed his little puppy nose making Loki envious.

Loki threw his hands up in an embellished motion as if he just experienced the shock of his life. "Pumpkin? He is a puppy, not a fruit! He is spotted, not orange!"

"He is chubby and round like a fat little pumpkin! And oh so very sweet!" She exclaimed, clasping her hands together like an excited toddler. Pumpkin barked, chasing her hands. "Do you not like my name selection, Loki?"

His heart melted right there. She had never said his name before now. Her voice was naturally soft and scratchy, not hoarse, but a cute kind of raspy. The L just spiraled off her tongue and she had said it delicately, almost intimately. There was no doubt now, he was completely, utterly bewitched. He declined to his knees like a juvenile boy and joined in playing with the puppy, charmed every time her fingertips accidentally stroked his.

It did not take long before the little fellow grew weary and flopped down for a snooze.  
In the demeanor of an appreciative child, Desdemona dashed forward and cultivated a chaste kiss on Loki's chin. "Thank you so much. You have made me so blissful today."

"You are most welcome, Desdemona."

Still unintentionally close, her face inches from his lips, she asked softly. "We are friends now?"

He inhaled her sweet breath before replying. "We are more than friends, love. We are family." He smiled a smile of matchlessly charm luring her in.

With bashful modesty, she lowered her gaze sucking in her bottom lip. The inadvertently gesture generating sensations to shoot out the head of his cock. Most men would have thrown the little vixen to the ground by now, but Loki was not impulsive like most men. He was not Thor. Young women like Desdemona needed coaxing. They needed patience and tenderness. He leaned forth bestowing a brotherly kiss upon her forehead. "You should take Pumpkin inside before the air grows chilly."

She nodded and tried to shield her reluctance to return to her husband, but Loki was quick. He caught it.

Trying not to wake Pumpkin, she spooned him to her heart and thanked Loki one more time before unenthusiastically returning to the castle.

Not wanting to abandon Pumpkin on his first night away from his mother, Desdemona elected to dine in her chamber instead of eating with her new family. Afterwards the maids stoked a lulling fire while she bathed. Soothed, she and Pumpkin napped on the bed.

A little past midnight, Thor opened the door allowing the light from the hallway to wake her. Clever and a bit cunning, she pretended to sleep hoping he would realize how sore she still was from the previous two nights and allow her respite.

No such luck. Like an oaf, he dropped on the bed jarring everything on it. "Come here." He summoned her to his body and when she did not obey, he reached and tugged at something furry. It bit him.

"What the hell?" Thor roared tearing the covers from the growling puppy.

"His name is pumpkin." She shot up.

"Well alright. Where in the hell did it come from?"

"He is a wedding gift." She replied, petting the irate barker, trying to calm him. Thor reached out to stroke his nose, but Pumpkin recoiled and sank his sharp teeth into his flesh.

Thor snatched his hand back and grumbled a joke, "From who, my brother?"

Desdemona scooped Pumpkin to her chest. "Yes."

Thor's mouth dropped. That bastard! He knew exactly what he was doing. "Do me a favor and do not accept anymore gifts from Loki."

She did not see the humor and inquired in a serious tone, "Why not?"

Thor rolled his eyes and smiled mockingly. It was like being married to a child. "At least take Pumpkin to the washroom until after we mate."

"Do we have to?" Desdemona pouted. The first night he had raged until dawn and last night, he had fucked her repeatedly until he sobered enough to realize she had long fainted beneath his drunk wrath.

"Desdemona do as you are told!" As she obeyed, Thor continued. "The more we merge, the faster you breed." And the sooner I will be rid of you….

She plopped back down on the bed in a huff. He could pretend it was a chore all he wanted to but she knew the truth, he enjoyed it. He grunted and grabbed her like a child mauling candy. The naughty tales her maid used to confess to her were true. Sex was only pleasurable for the male. There was no such thing as mutual ecstasy.

Thor did not even grant her time to undress before he dove on top of her, shoving her gown up, and embedding himself into her cervix. A natural reaction to the pain of his dry and rough entry, she punched her palms into his chest.

"Come on, Dessy girl, you should be used to it by now."

"It still hurts!"

"Shh, be quiet. Just take it." Thor tossed her legs over his shoulders, immobilizing her, leaving her vulnerable to deep penetration.

He wasn't drunk tonight, his passion tame. He fucked her hard, but not brutal and frenzic like the nights before. She whimpered and moaned trying hard to take him in stride. She was still blood raw and every muscle in her body bruised. And she was pretty sure he had lacerated her the first night and at this rate, she would never heal.

A torturous hour later, Thor grunted as he expelled. He dropped his oversized body on top of hers, drenching her with sweat and smothering her with muscle. She struggled beneath him, feeling his organ flag. Finally limp, he rolled off of her snoring as soon as his big head plopped the pillow.

Desdemona sprung off the bed and tiptoed to clean herself. After freeing herself of his messy essence, she whisked up her puppy, who whined to show how much he missed her, and sneaked back to bed, sleeping as far away as she could from sweaty Thor's snoring body. Snuggled next to Pumpkin, tonight's tears were lessened.

Notes:

I am sure there are better containers to ferry a puppy in, but I think burlap is breathable...IDK...


	7. Chapter 7

Future updates for this story has been moved to "Archives Of Our Own" due to the censorship of Fanfictionnet and its readers. You can find it by searching for the title from the Archives Of Our Own website.


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